The Man Who Hides Cars

Disguising preproduction prototypes requires an artistic touch and a lot of black fabric. But who makes these camo kits? And how?

For three months, all I knew was his cell-phone number and his first name: Dan. To me, he was “Dan the Camo Man.” Dan told me he was “on the fence” about talking to me. “It’s a sensitive business,” he explained. “The whole idea is to avoid publicity.”

Dan owns Autocanvas, one of only two independent U.S. companies that create camouflage to thwart the public—and rival automakers—from eyeing preproduction cars.

When Dan reluctantly agreed to talk, he imposed a few rules. “I can’t name the manufacturers who buy body wraps from me,” he cautioned. And he refused to meet at his office. “It’s always locked,” he explained. “Only my employees go in or out. Not even my clients meet me there.” He told me that if I brought along some out-of-date spy photos he’d look at them but warned he could neither confirm nor deny whether he’d created the disguises. During the 18 years he’s been in the car-cloaking business, he’s never taken a photo of even one of his camouflage kits. “It’d be too damning to have something like that around,” he said, adding that he didn’t care to talk about the precise address of his factory, only that “it’s in the Detroit metro area.” And he warned that many of my questions would evoke an off-the-record response or no response at all.

We met at a restaurant that neither of us had ever set foot in. I told Dan I’d be wearing a tie and would have a copy of Car and Driver on the table in front of me. When he arrived, he slipped quietly into our booth, then scanned the restaurant, apparently searching for any of his clients’ faces.

“Hello,” he said in a whisper.

“This is like ‘Spy vs. Spy,’ ” I said.

Dan, it turns out, is 40-year-old Dan Hossack, and his personality doesn’t match the average dark and taciturn CIA agent’s, but it’s close. He is so soft-spoken that my tape recorder barely registered his voice, and he isn’t a guy who volunteers information eagerly. But otherwise he proved inquisitive, bright, and able to recite chronologically every step in the creation of an automobile.

“On the most basic level, I’m paid to thwart industrial espionage,” he began. “My clients demand privacy. They even do extensive background checks to ensure I’m who I say I am and haven’t ever leaked any corporate secrets. When strangers ask about my job, I’ll often say, ‘I make car covers.’ They understand that. But when my relatives talk about me to their friends, they say, ‘Well, Dan hides cars,’ and most people are mystified. They’re like, ‘What, stolen cars?’ Even the few people who actually understand what I do, they’ll often ask, ‘Seen any cool prototypes lately?’ And I have to say, ‘Nope, not a one.’ ”

Dan’s roots are in wraps. When he was 17, he began making canvas tops for speedboats and yachts. “I’d build them from scratch,” he said, “the metal supporting brackets, the whole works. After a few years, I guess my reputation got around, and one of the Big Three’s truck divisions called. They were building a truck too big to transport in an enclosed van, so they asked if I wanted to take a shot at camouflaging it. I talked to the engineers, then studied some disguised vehicles in their yard. I ended up doing that truck essentially for free, because it really interested me. I’ve been wrapping cars ever since.”